Demons Like It Hot (21 page)

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Authors: Sidney Ayers

BOOK: Demons Like It Hot
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“Do you really need an energy boost? I thought you demons didn’t need sleep.”

“Just get the coffee.”

So much for trying to make conversation. “Does Edie want anything?”

“The usual.”

“Got it. Be there in ten. Bye.” With that, she ended the call. Two people could play this game.

***

 

Matthias crossed his arms. He did not like leaving Serah unprotected. Especially after what she just said happened. He clenched his teeth.

“Iz Miz SanGermano on her way?” Edie adjusted the white, muffin-topped hat on her head and flipped her red hair. She had the most intriguing accent he’d ever heard.

“Yes. She is getting coffee. What part of France are you from?”

“Here and zere. Everyvere. Me parents moved a lot. France, Germany, Switzerland, Luxembourg, even Liechtenstein.”

“Interesting.”

“But France has alvays been my home.”

If only he had some sort of truth talent. Something about the redhead seemed off. Her aura, though, was clean. No evil surrounded her. She seemed harmless enough.

“Can you tell me about this
American
Chef
show?”

“Very popular. The host!” She fanned her face. “
Très beau.
Oh
là là!
Daniel Blackburn can
coucher
avec
moi
any day.”

Too much information for his tastes. He needed to research this show more. What better way than a computer? He might have been almost eight hundred years old, but that didn’t mean he didn’t keep up with the ever-changing technology trends. “Is there a computer I can use?”


Oui.
” Edie grinned. “The laptop iz over zere.” She headed to a small desk in the back of the kitchen. She lifted the lid of the laptop and pressed a button.

The laptop hummed to life as the display flashed in front of him. He took a seat and stretched out his legs—as much as he could, sitting at a desk that he dwarfed. The computer chimed and brought up a password entry screen.

“Oh, I forgot ze passvord.” She leaned over and typed in a few letters and digits. She clicked the touch pad and stepped back. “Voilà.”

Did it really take this long for a computer to load? How many programs did she have running on this machine? “Does this computer always run so slow?”

“Vindows Bista. It needs upgrade, no?”

Edie did not need to say any more. That’s what happens when you allowed demons to help program your software. You’d think after the whole millennium ordeal, Bill Gates would have learned. The screen flickered and the desktop appeared. Matthias clicked on the browser icon. After a couple of minutes the web browser loaded.

“Apparently it does.”

Edie looked at the clock on the wall. “I need to prep zee kitchen. Can you handle it vrom here?”

Matthias nodded. “I just need to look up info on
American
Chef
and this Daniel Blackburn.”

“Google has everzing!”

He couldn’t argue with her there. “Thank you for the help, Ms. Fontaine.”


De
rien
, Mr. Ambrose. Call me Edie,
s’il vous plaît
?”

“Thank you, Edie.”

“Can I call you Matthias?”

He wanted to keep his distance. It was bad enough Serah had already whittled her way into what remained of his soul. He didn’t want to make friends. He wanted to complete his mission. Friends and affections only complicated matters. And friends could turn on you. However, civility got you further than gruffness. “If you must.”

“I certainly must.” A wide smile spread across her ruby red lips.

Matthias nodded. “Then call me Matthias.”

“Thank you, Matthias.” Edie took his hand in hers and offered a healthy shake. “Oh! Strong grip. You vill make excellent security guard.”

He gave a tentative shake and pulled his hand from hers. “You’re welcome.”

With that, Edie skipped off toward the supply closet, a cheerful hum rolling through the air. She certainly was odd, but that added to her eccentric charm. It was comforting to know that Serah was surrounded by such friendly people—Farquhar included.

He turned back to the computer and typed
American
Chef
into the search screen. He clicked the link to the official website. The show seemed innocuous enough. The host simply traveled across America, spotlighting different chefs, restaurants, and caterers throughout the United States. He worked with the show’s guests to cook up and serve masterpieces to a rather eager crowd. He clicked a link to a video.

Daniel stood over a metal pan stirring a reddish sauce. The man with him poured in some cherries while Daniel continued to stir.

“You might want to stand back for this, Daniel.” The chef took the handle from him and stirred the mixture on final time.

“Oh, but this is my favorite part,” Daniel said with that same pristine smile. He reluctantly handed off the pan to the chef.

“Can’t have you burn that handsome face of yours.” The chef grinned, giving Daniel a friendly—or maybe a little more than friendly—pat on the back.

Daniel stiffened ever so slightly and chuckled. Not a genuine laugh, but uneasy and awkward.

Matthias arched an eyebrow and pressed his lips together. Daniel wasn’t as feminine as he thought. No wonder these women ate this stuff up. No pun intended.

The chef poured some liquid over the top of the cherries and directed Daniel to angle the pan and pour a little over the side.

Matthias cringed. That was a disaster waiting to happen. A disaster he’d witnessed earlier that morning. Clenching his teeth, he held his breath. The pan was going to explode.

The pan lit on fire. Instead of running around the kitchen in a panic, the two men laughed and smiled as the cherry mixture burned in front of their eyes.

Daniel just stirred the mixture and continued the conversation, oblivious to the fact that it was still on fire.

Eventually the fire died out and they pulled two bowls of ice cream out of the freezer. The chef scooped some of the wasted sauce and poured it over the ice cream.

“And that’s how you make cherries jubilee.” Daniel stuck his spoon into the ice cream and took a bite. “Mmmm. Delicious. Tune in next week when a special guest shows us a new way of making crème brûlée.” He flashed that damned smile. “Yes, I love cooking with fire. Until then, live long and cook strong.”

Matthias shook his head in disbelief.
People
actually
watch
this
rubbish?

He clicked the link to learn more about the host. A large picture of this Daniel man filled his screen. Long, blond hair was neatly tied at the nape of his neck. He took care of himself. Had a sturdy physique and greenish eyes. His wide, toothy smile seemed genuine enough. There had to be more. He moved the page down to read Daniel’s biography.

Daniel Blackburn was raised in Chicago’s South Side. The oldest of four boys, Daniel struggled through school and work to raise his family and make ends meet.

While working as a bouncer at a popular Chicago nightclub, he caught the eye of one of the producers of the reality show,
Princes and Paupers
, where wealthy businessmen trade places with those less fortunate. He was season two’s pauper. Daniel became an overnight sensation. It was soon discovered that Daniel had a knack for cooking, stemming from his life being raised by a single mother. He currently hosts the successful cooking show,
American Chef
, and runs a restaurant and winery in a Chicago suburb.

 

A true rags-to-riches story. Who couldn’t love a guy who bounced back from adversity. No wonder all the women, including Serah, were enamored of him. The man had fan pages galore, according to Matthias’s research. He saw the way Serah talked about him, how she smiled when she mentioned his name. There was no masking it.

He snorted. What was so fascinating about a man who enjoyed food? What happened to the days when women swooned over a man with a sword? From the vast array of information Matthias had collected, Daniel was also an avid oenologist, a connoisseur of fine wines who prided himself on his extensive knowledge.

Just like Dionysus. Maybe he had nothing to worry about after all. Hah, him? Worry? Why for?

He skimmed over some other celebrity gossip websites. Nothing about Daniel popped up on the radar. He was a bachelor, had no kids or known lovers—male or female. Not even the popular tabloid magazines or websites had anything on him. But he’d seen how the paparazzi operated these days—that was virtually impossible. They could find something on the holiest of people—including Mother Theresa if they needed to. No one was immune.

This man seemed genuine enough in his picture, but some people could pose and pictures could be altered. He looked through several other photos. Just as genuine as the first. It unnerved him. No one, not even a demon, could be so friendly looking. Something was up.

He’d meet this Daniel Blackburn face to face. Only then would he make his decision. Serah would have to learn how to deal with it. He couldn’t have her hurt. Especially if the man with the pristine smile had ulterior motives.

He gritted his teeth. Why the hell did he care so much?

Chapter 21
 

Serah balanced the tray of coffee on one hand and scrounged around her purse with the other. She grabbed her keychain and clicked the button on the remote to lock the car.

Besides food, catering had its good points, like the ability to balance any size and shape of tray in one hand. Too bad that wasn’t an Olympic sport. She’d
so
get the gold medal if it were. Not that she liked bragging, but she did balance a mean tray now and again.

“Need any help?”

The vaguely familiar voice echoed in her ear. Not an unpleasant voice, but unexpected. She glanced down at her watch. Seven forty-five. Of course he’d be early.

Just her luck. Was Daniel setting her up to get invited in? Matthias would be pissed. Really? Did she really care what Matthias thought? And where was that sulfur smell that always lingered whenever a demon was nearby. If Daniel was a demon, he’d be smelling like a steaming pile of… something.

“I got it. I do it every day.” Not a complete lie. Usually she did not have three steaming cups of coffee and a bag of bagels. She balanced the bagels atop the cups and grabbed the doorknob.

“See?”

“Oh, you’re talented. At least allow me to hold the door for you.”

“You just said I was talented, though.”

“True.” Without further words, he reached out and plucked the tray and bagels from her hand. “I’m talented too.”

“Apparently.”

“Serah SanGermano?”

Serah nodded and extended her now-free hand. “Daniel Blackburn? Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you until nine thirty.”

Daniel took her hand in his. Warm and inviting, not electric and hot like Matthias’s. Was that good or bad? She bit her lip.

“Sorry, I was already up and about and I dislike being late.”

She finally got her first good look at him. Blond hair hung loosely around a tanned face. He stood about six foot four and the long wool coat he wore did little to hide his wide shoulders. What was the deal with all these tall, muscular guys hopping into town lately? First Rafe, then Matthias, and now Daniel. Luckily, Daniel was of the human variety—from what she could tell.

Serah smiled. “No apology necessary. They always say the early bird gets the worm, right?”

“That’s true.” Daniel’s abnormally crystal blue eyes twinkled. She’d always liked blue eyes, but seeing his up close and personal did nothing for her. Was she secretly turning into a lesbian? Not that there was anything wrong with that, but she’d always had a thing for men. Especially blond-haired, blue-eyed ones who looked like they just stepped off the beach. Something was wrong—very wrong.

“You’re much prettier in person.”

Even his compliment did little to get her heart thudding the way it thudded when Matthias…
Oh
hell
no
.

“You’re taller than I thought you’d be.”

Seriously, that’s all she could come up with for a response? Then again, it sure beat
You’re not as hot as I thought you’d be.
She needed this television bit. Insulting him would get her nowhere.

Daniel flashed a wide toothy smile. “I get that a lot.” He leaned in and brought his face to her ear and whispered, “The secret is the hidden platform the guests stand on.”

Again, nothing. It was like her libido had packed up and taken a vacation. Then again, maybe that was just what the doctor ordered. No obnoxious fangirls to make matters complicated or awkward. She’d seen a few of those episodes. The ones where the women—and sometimes men—threw themselves at him—so blatantly obvious and even more annoying. And Daniel handled each with nary a misstep. Who knew, maybe he was gay? “Ahh. Good idea.”

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